Books and Bedposts
by OrangeShipper
Summary: They're ready quite early for dinner, really. Only Matthew can't find a book. And Mary's rather bored of waiting, so fidgets idly with the bedpost. Gratuitous smut ensues.


A/N: _More from me! This is what happens when I have a lot of work to do. I shy away and write fic instead. Oops. This is in response to another request by_ _Shinebycomparison_ on Tumblr, in thanks for making me some very entertaining graphics. She gave me the inspiration of two choice gifs, and set me loose...

...and this is what happened. Do enjoy!

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><p><strong>Books and Bedposts<strong>

Hovering by the bed, Mary watched her husband flit frantically around the room, pulling up cushions and peering in drawers , rifling through the small bookcase.

"Matthew…"

"It must be somewhere –" he muttered, pulling out books one at a time before shunting them back in frustration.

"Darling, it really doesn't matter," she soothed, curling her fingers around the four-poster and leaning her head against it. "Papa can wait another day, and… we've a little while before we need to leave, yet, there's no hurry."

Matthew turned his head from where he was rifling through his bedside cabinet, alerted by her low tone.

"But he's… going to London tomorrow, darling, I did say I'd – take it this evening," he swallowed. He'd promised to lend his father-in-law a novel he'd finished the week before, but couldn't for the life of him find it anywhere, now, and was beginning to get flustered looking.

And that was even though they'd readied for dinner with plenty of time to spare. Glancing at Mary now, he was beginning to suspect why she'd been so quick. She was… staring at him from under hooded, heavy eyelashes, and now he noticed how her thumb was rubbing lightly against the bedpost by her cheek, up and down and… It was the slightest, slightest gesture, and truly it meant – nothing – but he couldn't stop watching her fingers stroke idly, lightly up, and down the gleaming wood.

"You say a lot of things," she cocked her head, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Mm?" he swallowed, and licked his lips. The book he held slid from his fingers back into the drawer when, torturously far from him, Mary did the same. Her tongue darted out and wetted her lips, leaving them shining softly, and a strangled hum caressed the back of Matthew's throat as warmth swept through him.

"You know you'll be able to form a perfectly adequate apology," she carried on softly, her thumb still… stroking… Matthew couldn't tear his eyes from the movement. "Find it later, Matthew…"

"I…" He moistened his lips again, riling against his eyes hooding over. "No! No, I don't even know where it is, and – Mary, my darling, if I am anything I'm a man of my word, and if I said I would take it –"

"Oh, you will take it…" she murmured.

Matthew physically trembled at his arousal, and tore his eyes back to the books strewn over their room.

"Darling, you – we haven't time, your dress –" he protested futilely, then; "Oh!" His body snapped to alertness with a fresh energy, her advances forgotten. "That's where I put it!"

He dashed from the room to his study, leaving Mary behind him with a frustrated sigh. He _knew_ he'd had it only the other day! At work, that was it, so when he'd come back he'd straightaway gone to the study, and… Quickly, he moved aside papers and files, lifted a packet of letters – _there_ it was! With a satisfied smile, he tossed it in his hands, turned around and –

Mary barely gave him room to breathe as she pressed him determinedly back against the desk, allowing him only a gasp against her already parted lips as the book fell from his hands.

"God, Mary…" he groaned as her palms smoothed down his chest, her fingers instantly flipping his belt buckle. Hot shivers taunted him, the barest touch of her skin as he grasped her shoulders, bare but for the thin straps of her dress. He shifted his kisses there, tasting the delicate smoothness of her pale skin, eyes squeezing shut as he felt his trousers and underwear drop at the thrust of her hands, then… her shoulders dropped too, and Matthew's hands shot backwards to grasp some sort of purchase on the smooth wood of his desk as she knelt and… touched, and… licked, so intimately at him.

Blood rushed through every vein, hot up the back of his neck and shooting to his core as she caressed that part of him that was hers and hers alone, with gentle kisses, stroking fingers that curled and grasped and taunted. The wet heat of her mouth encompassed him and he growled, gripping the desk behind him till his knuckles were white, head dropping back in pleasure as he felt her tongue pass over him with relish, and over him, and he groaned louder and…

"Oh, _God_, my darling," his breath hissed out. He couldn't see, could only _feel_, and he felt… no, _she_ felt…

"Mm?" she hummed teasingly, stroking her lips over him into a smile at his sharper gasp.

"Mary…" Matthew's voice was barely beyond a whimper, he felt tight and hot and he loved her _so_ much; "You must – darling, stop –"

"No…" she whispered.

Matthew gasped again, shuddered under her, moaned softly and… before Mary was aware of anything else he had grasped her shoulders, heaved her to her feet and somehow tugged her past him till she almost fell forwards over the desk.

"Matthew!" she gasped, trying to turn but he was pressed against her back, leaning against her with his lips hot on her shoulders, his hands covering hers to splay her fingers over to the far edge of the desk.

"Mm?" was his only, taunting, response, his breath thrumming against her skin. She felt a flush of arousal, hotter than before, so strong that she trembled… her fingers remaining curled over the wooden edge as his hands fell back to her waist, incapable to thinking to move them for herself. If she let go she'd fall, lose herself, and this… _this_ was wonderful, the thrill of desire coursing through her in endless tremors. His papers were knocked out of the way, his book fallen to the floor, but that didn't matter. She couldn't see him, could only _feel_; his breath and lips hot against the back of her neck, then her ear, nipping and sucking at her as she felt his hands tug her dress up, and her silken undergarments down…

She bit her lip, whimpering softly in delight as her head hung forwards, her hands then elbows bracing on the desk as she felt him, hovering tantalisingly at her entrance for the sweetest moment before he pushed into her, filling her in a moment. He froze, arm wrapped tightly around her waist, resting his forehead against the back of her shoulder as he savoured that first moment of completeness.

Gasping in time with him, Mary trembled at the delicious friction, feeling him draw back then… plunge in again, instinctively thrusting back against him. Slowly, at first, they rocked in time with each other; Matthew drawing back, pressing forwards, as she let him go, then thrust back, again, and again, and again. Each soft thud of contact into her very depths drew gasping moans, soft at first, then louder, Matthew's thrumming against Mary's hot, slicked skin.

"Darling," he groaned, and it wasn't enough. He tasted the salt on her neck, eased one hand up to her breast, caressing as best he could through her layers of clothes. His other slipped down, ruffling under the skirts of her dress, grazing over the top of her thigh before he found her, circling his fingers over and over that precious spot in time with his hips that slammed against her, grinning against her shoulder as she shrieked in pleasure.

Mary was beyond any coherency. It was too much; she leant forwards and bit her lip as she felt him curl against her back, shuddering uncontrollably as her hips flung back in pure, desperate instinct, seeking him as eagerly as he sought her, again and again. His hands, his body, his lips… all against her, teasing her, she was devastatingly hot and tight and she whimpered, gasping out his name in ever more high-pitched moans.

She was gloriously tight around him, and Matthew sped up, limbs overtaken with a frantic urgency as he felt his control slip. He felt her tremble and tense, and pulse around him, his fingers slipping desperately over her slick heat before she stiffened and cried out. A groan started deep in his chest, building and building and exploding in a glorious rush of release as he lurched into her again, then once more, muffling his loud grunt of ecstasy into the back of her neck.

Weakly, they collapsed forwards over the desk, feeling everything pulse and throb and shudder in aftershock.

After a few peaceful, blissful moments of that glorious feeling of togetherness, Matthew roused a little and began to drop tender kisses along the back of her shoulder.

"Darling…" Mary murmured, her voice muffled where her head lay resting on her arm. "You're – quite heavy, you know –"

"God, I'm sorry – of course –" Matthew eased himself languidly up, tracing his hands from her shoulders down her back as he stood properly. He grunted softly as they parted, feeling cold air cling to the slightly damp front of his shirt. His neck prickled with sweat. As Mary slowly straightened and stretched, he smiled fondly at her flushed cheeks and dark eyes.

She kissed him softly, and helped him fix his trousers and belt, letting her fingers linger at the buckle for a moment after.

"Now look, darling, we're all… flustered," she reproached gently, even as she smiled against his lips. "If you'd only have let me finish…" Matthew only grinned in response, tucking his arms around her.

"Next time, perhaps," he murmured. Easing back, he caught the twinkle in her eye, and kissed her cheek again, and pulled her into a warm, tight embrace. "Oh, darling…" he whispered against her ear.

"Hmm," Mary hummed, as if thinking it over. She lay her cheek on his shoulder, relishing the warmth of his arms and his body. And then they heard Isobel's voice drift up the stairs, to inform them the car was waiting. "Oh… come then, dearest."

She stepped back, allowing her hands to graze softly down his arms to take his hands. An air of satisfaction hovered over her, almost palpable, her voice heavy with it.

"Alright. We wouldn't want to keep anyone waiting, would we," he said, stepping forwards and kissing her again, feeling her lips part to welcome him.

"Certainly not!" she gasped, touching his cheek as if to push him away but it somehow lingered into a caress.

From downstairs, Isobel called again, forcing Matthew to finally step reluctantly back.

"After you, darling," he gestured for Mary to go ahead of him, indulging his urge to look at her even now. She stepped through the door, straightened her dress, patted her hair and started down the stairs, and Matthew followed her.

"Are you quite ready, dears?" Isobel fussed in the hallway, her expression impassive as to whether or not she had any idea of their activity.

"Yes, Mother," Matthew sighed, reaching for Mary's coat then his own.

Mary peered at him, and laughed. "No, darling, you're not."

"I'm not?" He was confused, and frowned at her. Mary only laughed again, and patted his arm fondly.

"Darling, where's your book?"

**Fin**

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><p>AN: _Ummm... yes. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and I promise my next job is ATiL - I've had a stonkingly busy week at work and haven't been able to dedicate the time to it, but I'm hoping this weekend!_

_As ever, I love hearing your thoughts - I'm always very touched by them, you're all absolute darlings - reviews will be a ray of light in my week! Thank you so much :)_


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